


twelve days of a john and martha christmas

by buckleydiaz



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Cookies, Christmas Decorations, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Presents, Christmas Shopping, F/M, Ice Skating, Mistletoe, but its nothin too bad, it gets a lil steamy in the second chapter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-14
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-11 14:50:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 18,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12937608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/buckleydiaz/pseuds/buckleydiaz
Summary: 12 prompts. 12 days. all john/martha





	1. 01. decorating

**Author's Note:**

> *blows a kiss to the stars* for my john/martha fans

When John trots out of the bedroom, the first thing he really manages to focus on is his girlfriend, in front of the closet, standing on a chair, pulling some boxes out and kneeling down to place them on the floor next to her. He's quiet, walking closer to Martha carefully so as to avoid alerting her to his presence. John's got a fond look on his face as he's standing behind her silently for a moment, just watching her with oh so much love in his eyes. After a moment of watching, John reaches out, wraps his arms tightly around her waist and lifts her up a bit.   
  
Martha squeals when John makes contact with her, starts giggling madly as she tries to wriggle away from John with a wide smile. "Johnny!" She squeaks as John presses kisses all over the back of her neck, her shoulders, the exposed skin on her back. He finally sets her back down on the chair, chuckling a bit himself. Martha carefully turns around where she's standing, cocks her hip a bit, a slow smile spreading onto her face. "I like this."   
  
"Like what?" John asks as he steps closer to her, precariously slips his hands underneath the bottom of her sweater to rest gently on her thighs, leans forward to nuzzle Martha's belly lovingly.   
  
"I like being taller than you," Martha says quietly, brushes a few loose curls out of John's face. Her words make John snort a bit, him patting her thighs softly. "What? I'm so small that I've got to take the satisfaction of being tall anywhere I can get it."   
  
John looks up at Martha now, smiles wide and lovingly up at the woman. "What've you been doin' while I was asleep, baby girl?" He asks quietly, mindlessly rubs slow circles into Martha's skin with his thumbs.   
  
"Gettin' out some decorations, love. I got one more box to get out, so as much as I like you being close to me like this, you gotta let me go so I can finish up," Martha says fondly while John pouts at her. "Go on, get. If you wanna be helpful, go bring those boxes to the living room."   
  
John sighs for a long time and begrudgingly lets Martha go, looks over at the boxes piled up next to them. "Why're there so many boxes, babe? And what are we decorating  _ for  _ exactly?" He asks while picking up a couple boxes with minimal effort.   
  
"They're for  _ Christmas _ , Johnny. Did I ever tell you about my parents' infatuation with Christmas?" Martha glances over at John for a moment, stretches up to reach one final box that's resting on one of the top shelves. John can't quite help watching her, absolutely in love with the stretch and contours of her body.   
  
"Uh, I don't think so," John says after a moment's hesitation, having been distracted with staring at his girlfriend. He quickly deposits the two boxes in his arms onto the coffee table in their living room.   
  
"Well you see," Martha says after setting the final box down on the remaining pile, "Christmas is very different where my parents grew up. And they were really poor, so they never really celebrated it in general. But then they moved to S.C., they came into a lot of money, and all their American friends were very big on it. They both just sorta... Fell in love with it?" John nods in agreement as he brings the last of the boxes to the living room. "They were crazy about Christmas. And when I was born, they got a million different 'baby's first Christmas' decorations. So when they died, I got all their decorations. And, y’know, of  _ course  _ I love Christmas, it’s always been the best day of the year at home.”   
  
While Martha spoke, John had leaned against the wall next to her, smiling crookedly. "Well. You know me, I'm not real big about Christmas. But I  _ guess  _ I can decorate with you, if it'll make you happy."   
  
"Oh, you  _ guess _ ?" Martha raises both eyebrows a bit, hops off the chair, wobbling a bit when she lands--and John can't help reaching out a bit, ready to catch her if she stumbled too much for his comfort. "What a kind favor you're doing me here, sir!" She smiles wide and giggles a bit while she picks up the chair to bring it back to the kitchen.   
  
"Yes, a kind favor indeed!" John exclaims in a dramatic tone, follows after Martha happily. He watches fondly while she sets the chair back in its spot at the table, eyes overflowing with love while Martha turns around, leans against the table and watches John right back. He takes a couple steps closer so he can place his hands gently on her hips, presses his lips to where her neck and jawline meet and lingers there for a while. He peppers a few more kisses on her skin, nuzzles her a bit, smiles far wider than he normally would at ten in the morning on a Saturday. "I love you, Marty."   
  
Martha reaches up, wraps her arms around John's shoulders and sighs contentedly. "I love you, too, Johnny." She nudges his face away from her neck, cups his cheeks and presses a firm kiss to his lips. "Now. Less fucking around and more decorating, what d'ya say?"   
  
John groans and puts, tightens his grip a little bit. "Don't wanna. But  _ fine _ . Only if we can cuddle afterwards?" He's got a bit of a hopeful tone in his voice.   
  
"If you're very helpful, then perhaps," Martha says smugly, presses another kiss to John's lips, takes advantage of his slightly slackened grip to slip away and go into the living room. John pouts and follows quickly, yet begrudgingly.   
  
When John arrives, he sees Martha already working on opening up the long box that she had pulled out of the closet last. "What's in this?" John asks, hovering anxiously over her, ready to help whenever she needs it.   
  
"Tree," Martha says. "Fake trees are a lot easier than real trees--they don't need to be watered and they don't need need to be thrown away each year," she finishes almost as if she was anticipating his next question. She looks up at John now from where she's sitting criss-cross on the floor, smiles happily. "Don't worry, I got some ornaments that'll make it smell like a real pine tree."   
  
John finally allows himself to sit on the couch next to Martha's spot, eyes all the different boxes nervously. "This is a lotta shit. Do we really have room for all this?"   
  
"Nah," Martha mumbles while pulling the pieces of the tree out of the box, "It's just that I don't remember exactly where all the stuff is. There're a lot of lights and inflatables in these boxes that we're not gonna use. And there's a shit ton of ornaments. There is one that we gotta use that I bought this year. It's, like, a little mug of hot cocoa with a couple a li'l marshmallows that I got customized for us. It says our names and then, under that, it says ' _ you warm my heart _ ,' or something. I thought it'd be  _ perfect _ ."   
  
John's cheeks flush a bit at that, smiles wide and goofy as he scooches down onto the floor next to Martha. "Sounds great. D'ya need help with anything?" He asks while lightly throwing his arm around Martha's waist.   
  
Martha hums thoughtfully for a moment, bumps John's shoulder with her own. "Y'know what? Yeah, actually. This tree is kinda tall, so I can't reach the top to put it together fully. I also am not tall enough to put ornaments near the top. Be a peach and help me with all that, yeah?"   
  
"I'd love to," John hums, turns his head to press a kiss to Martha's temple.   
  
Martha wiggles away from him now and stands up with the three pieces of the tree in hand, John following quickly after her. She shoves the top piece towards John, who takes it easily, looking at the piece funnily. "The so-called  _ leaves  _ kinda tickle a li'l," Martha says as some sort of explanation, grins back at John while she fixes the bottom piece to the tree stand.   
  
"Feels weird," he murmurs, turns the piece over in his hands. Martha laughs a little, attaches the middle piece to the rest of the tree.   
  
"You got that right, baby," Martha says, still chuckling a bit to herself, tongue sticking out a bit in concentration (John finds it absolutely  _ adorable  _ how she does that). "Alright, hand me that top piece." John complies quickly, nods to himself. "Pick me up."   
  
"Wh... What?" John raises both eyebrows while he gives Martha a bit of a wide-eyed look.   
  
"Pick me up, Johnny. I'm not tall enough for this final piece," Martha says, gives John a meaningful look.   
  
"Oh, permission?" John grins wide and goofy and Martha nods and smiles in response. "Good," he says while he clasps his hands together excitedly for a brief moment, eagerly wraps his arms around Martha's waist and lifts her up, pulling a little squeak out of her, to which he murmurs a little, "you're adorable."   
  
"Yeah, well so are you," Martha says fondly, instinctively wraps her legs around John, smiles crookedly down at him while she carefully screws on the final part of the tree, bites her lip as she does so (John can't help but wish a bit that he was biting her lip instead, but whatever). Martha spreads the branches out a bit with total concentration for a moment. "There!" She exclaims, cups John's cheeks and presses her lips to his forehead. "Now we jus' gotta spread the rest of the branches and then we can start decoratin'! How's that sound?"   
  
"I'd rather spread somethin' else, if ya know what I'm sayin'," John grumbles, earns a swat on the shoulder from a laughing Martha. He sets her down carefully, grins cheekily at her while she rolls her eyes and turns towards the tree. John takes this as his chance to wrap his arms around Martha's waist from behind and snuggle up close to her.   
  
"If you want to finish quicker so we can go snuggle, then maybe you should help me out, huh, babe?" Martha turns her head a bit to look at John, smiles teasingly up at him.   
  
"Ugh, fine," John says while pouting, reluctantly pulls away from Martha, trudges to the other side of the tree to help with the branches, glaring playfully at Martha, who just laughs and rolls her eyes while working through the branches.

While they’re working on the tree, John can’t help but stare at Martha and smile real wide. He just can’t help it--Martha’s always so pretty, especially when she’s concentrating and determined to get shit done like this. She’s really the prettiest person he’s ever met, he’s decided.

After what felt like centuries have passed, Martha stands back, away from the tree, clenched fists resting on her cocked hip while she scrutinizingly stares at the tree. John hurries away from it to stand next to her, watches her watch the tree. “So? What’s the verdict?” John asks after a long silence.

Martha’s silent for a few more moments before she breaks into a wide grin. “It looks lovely! Now we gotta get the lights wrapped around this baby. You’ll have to help, a’ight?”

John nods and smiles, says “a’ight,” right back. “Just point me in a direction and I’ll do whatever you need.”

Martha smiles crookedly, reaches up to pat John’s cheek fondly. “So helpful. Thank you, baby,” she says while going back to the boxes to search for lights.

“I try,” John says, tries not to melt too much at the fond action before following after Martha.

“Aha!” Martha exclaims when she pulls out a box out of the box she was looking through. “Here are the lights. Now for my most dreaded part of this whole process-- _ untangling _ .”

“My mom used to  _ hate  _ untangling the lights,” John says, reminiscent, while Martha hands him the box. “She used to joke around, say that one day, she was jus’ gonna leave the tree up all year so she wouldn’t have to untangle anymore lights for the rest of her life.”

Martha laughs at that, opens up the box in John’s arms and pulls the lights out slowly. “Oh, man. Your mom sounds like she was a real delight. I feel like she and I woulda gotten along just fine,” She shakes her head fondly, going slowly through the lights and trying to unravel them efficiently.

“I bet she woulda loved you so much,” John says quietly, a little bit sad. “Do you need any help with that?” He asks after he pulls himself away from the thoughts of his mother.

“Just keep holdin’ onto the box tightly like that, a’ight? Keep ‘er steady and then I’ll be done with this in no time,” Martha says, tongue already sticking out with her concentration. John nods, flashes a goofy little mock salute.

After what feels like no time at all, Martha’s fully unraveled the string of lights and already has them plugged into the wall socket. John’s in awe with how quickly she seemed to get it done. “Okay. Now what I need you to do is stand on the opposite side of the tree from me, a’ight? I’m gonna pass you the string while I’m wrapping it around, you wrap it around your side, and then hand it right back to me. Jus’ keep goin’ in, like, a circular motion, a’ight?”

“Got it,” John says, nods and goes to stand on the opposite side of the tree. He smiles at Martha around the thing and she smiles right back.

“Here we go. Just take your time with this, baby. I wanna get it done right the first time so we can be finished quicker,” Martha says while giving him a somewhat stern look.

“I gotchu, babe,” John flashes a thumbs up and a wide grin, bringing a relieved smile to Martha’s face.

And so they get to work, wrapping the lights and passing them back and forth. John stumbles a bit with it at first, but he soon gets a hang of the rhythm of it. They get to a point, eventually, where Martha can’t reach the lights, not even on the tips of her toes. She gives him a look, is about to say something, but John already knows that she needs him to pick her up. He walks over to Martha, careful not to mess with the lights, and easily wraps his arms around her waist and lifts her up.

“Thanks, peach,” Martha murmurs mindlessly while she wraps the lights around the last bit of tree. John smiles, kisses her cheek and then sets her down. She pats his chest and grins wide, twirls away to go fish out the ornaments. “We’re almost done, baby! We’re on the homestretch!”

John grins right back, raises his fist up happily. “I’m excited to see how it turns out, hon,” he says softly while stepping over to help her carry the ornaments.

“Me, too,” she says fondly opens the boxes and fishes around for a handful of ornaments. “Hey, you wanna hang these up while I go get that one I got for us?”

“Uh. Sure? D’you got any special rules or whatever for the ornaments?” John takes the little decorations from Martha’s hands with curious eyes.

“Not really. Just do whatever you think looks nice,” Martha replies, gets on the tips of her toes, pecks John’s lips and slips out of the room.

John smiles after her and starts hanging up the decorations, humming Christmas songs under his breath. He’s got the tree about halfway covered when Martha comes back in with a little box in her hands. She steps up behind him, stands on the tips of her toes to press a light kiss to the space just underneath John’s jaw, moves over next to him and opens the box. “What do you think?”

John stares at it for a while with wide, teary eyes. He reaches out and runs his fingers over the special ornament, smiles when he sees their names written nicely. “I love it, baby girl. It’s perfect,” he says, sniffles a bit and swipes a fist under his eyes.

“Aw, babe are you crying?” Martha laughs a little, reaches up to cup his cheek with one hand. He shakes his head and she laughs a little before pulling out the metallic mug of cocoa out of the box. “You’re so sweet, honey.”

John hiccups a bit, bumps her hip with his own and continues hanging up the decorations before sniffling again. “Shush, I’m tryna finish this.”

“Yeah, alright, alright. How ‘bout we save this one for last?” Martha asks, glances briefly at John while she holds the ornament up. “Best for last and all that.”

John nods, smiles over at her. “Sure. I’m almost finished up here. Savin’ a spot for ours. Our first ornament together,” he says the last part a bit quietly, almost in awe. He’s kind of in love with the life that him and Martha are slowly building together.

“You need help, baby?” Martha asks, casually slings an arm around his waist. John shakes his head while hanging up a couple more ornaments. “Alright. Well, I’m ready when you’re ready to put this puppy up.”

John smiles crookedly, starts humming some Christmas music, mostly to himself. Martha smiles right back and hums along with him. After a while, he turn towards Martha, puts his hands on her shoulders to press his lips against the grinning girl’s forehead. “‘M ready for our special one, baby. And I want  _ you  _ to do the honors.”

Martha smiles wide, pats John’s cheek lovingly. “Don’t gotta tell me twice, darling,” she murmurs sweetly, runs her fingers through his hair briefly before turning towards the tree. “Drum roll, please,” she says and John repeatedly pats his hands on his thighs quickly. Martha slides the metallic cup of cocoa onto the free space on the tree, stands back with her arms spread wide. “Ta-da! What do you think, love?”

“I love it. Almost as pretty as you, baby girl,” John says in a sugar sweet tone, stands back next to Martha and wraps his arms around her, holds her snug to him.  


Martha rests her head against John’s shoulder, wraps her arms around him right back. “And I love  _ you _ .”

“And I love you, too,” John whispers, “and I’m so excited for our first Christmas living together.

“Me, too,” Martha whispers right back happily


	2. 02. baking cookies

John wakes up the next morning to the smell of cookie dough and the sound of faint Christmas music. He really does  _ not  _ wanna get out of his warm bed, but his curiosity takes over, so he throws the covers off of himself and trots to the kitchen with a fuzzy blanket draped around his shoulders.

When he walks into the kitchen, he sees Martha stirring something in a bowl (probably the cookie dough he smelled earlier), her hips swaying from side to side as she hums along to the music. He leans against the counter behind Martha and watches her fondly, quiet for a while before murmuring a small, “Hey.”

Martha turns her head to face John, immediately breaks into a wide grin and dances over to him, presses a peck against his lips, all the while still stirring the concoction on her hands. “Hey, hon. I was wondering when you’d wake up,” she says, twirls back over to where she had been standing before.

John makes a noncommittal grunt, moves closer to her so he can wrap himself around her backside, sways his hips with her, earning a little giggle from the woman. “Whatcha making?” he asks quietly while stealing a glance into the bowl in his girlfriend’s hands.

“My  _ abuela _ ’s famous cookies. Whenever me, mama, and papa went to Puerto Rico to visit around Christmas time, she’d make these for us and all my cousins,” Martha murmurs fondly, tilts her head a bit to look up at John. “You wanna taste the dough?”

“I shouldn’t,” John whispers, “but I think I need to figure out if they taste as good as they smell.” Martha laughs, raises the wooden spoon in her hand up to John’s mouth. John kitten licks the batter off the spoon, not able to keep the moan from leaving his throat.

“That good, huh?” Martha asks, tries to keep herself from laughing too much at his reaction.

“ _ So  _ good, babygirl,” John murmurs while bringing a hand to Martha’s jaw and tilting her face towards his, kisses her deep and lovingly.

“I’ll make sure to let  _ abuela  _ know that you love her recipe,” Martha whispers against John’s lips, a slow smirk creeping onto her face.

“Well, y’know what else I love?” John asks, waits until Martha hums to continue. “ _ You _ ,” he murmurs lowly while peppering kisses all over the side of her face.

“Hey, quit it! I gotta stir this just right! You’re such a  _ distraction _ ,” Martha exclaims fondly, tries to squirm away from John’s grip, who only tightens his hold around the squealing woman.

“I’m the hottest distraction you’ve ever had, though, baby,” John says confidently, lips lingering on Martha’s jaw.

“Ugh, unfortunately. If you weren’t so damn attractive, then maybe I wouldn’t have had to fall in love with you,” Martha speaks in a way that sounds disgusted, but John can tell that she means it with a lot of love.

“Mmm, and if you weren’t so attractive yourself, then I wouldn’t have had to go up and introduce myself at the bar that one night,” John says, reminiscing over when he first met the beautiful woman in his arms.

“God, you were so  _ drunk  _ that night. I almost felt bad for you ‘cause of how badly you were stumbling over your words,” Martha giggles at the memory and John pokes at her sides.

“Hey, you’re the one who fell in love with the stumbling buffoon,” John says softly and Martha giggles even more.

“And you’re the one who has to  _ be  _ the stumbling buffoon,” Martha says with her tongue sticking out teasingly, takes advantage of John’s slightly slackened grip to duck out of his arms and set the bowl down.

“So mean. I’m hurt, Marty. Right here,” John pouts and holds a hand over his heart, gives Martha his best puppy dog eyes.

“Aww, boo hoo,” Martha teases, pulls out a cookie sheet. “You’ll live,” she starts rolling up balls of dough now, carefully and methodically setting them down on the tray.

“No I won’t,” John whines, leans against Martha to rest his chin on her shoulder. 

Martha rolls her eyes and pulls open a drawer, thrashes around for a moment before she finds what she was looking for--cookie cutters. “I’m pretty sure you will,” she says, tongue already sticking out in concentration while she carefully flattens the dough.

“I can’t believe I live with a bully,” John pouts, abandons his blanket by tossing it in the general direction of the kitchen table, watches Martha curiously.

“And I can’t believe I live with a baby,” Martha briefly looks over at John while she presses the cookie cutters slowly into the dough. 

John quickly notices a pattern--snowmen are on the top row, Christmas trees are on the second row down, Santa hats are on the third row down, and reindeer on the bottom row. “Can I help?” he asks curiously, hazel eyes lit up.

“You sure you can handle this? They’ve gotta be  _ perfect _ , Johnny,” Martha frowns, concerned, up at John and he nods vigorously.

“Yeah, I got the pattern down. And I’m good at goin’ slow, if you know what I mean,” Martha snorts at that. “‘Sides, I wanna help you get done faster, babe.”

“You’re sweet. Hm, alright, why the hell not. Go ahead, baby,” Martha leans up to press a quick kiss to John’s cheek before going back to perfect pressing.

John mock salutes and grabs one of the cookie cutters and gets to work, hips swaying in the same pattern that Martha’s are.

A few minutes later, all the cookies are cut out and Martha stands back to admire their work. “Not bad for your first time.”

“That’s what she said,” John mumbles quietly in the hopes that she wouldn’t hear, but she did. Martha whacks John’s shoulder lightly and John just laughs a bit.

“Shut up,” Martha grumbles and glares momentarily at John. “We gotta get these bad boys in the oven,” she gives John a meaningful look for a moment. “Do the honors of opening up the oven, please?”

“Aye, aye, cap’n,” John says happily with a little salute and pulls the oven door, sighs with the warmth that emits from the thing.

Martha carefully, and with both hands, lifts up the sheet covered in cookies, slowly sliding it onto the top most level. She centers the sheet perfectly before standing up straight and nodding towards John, who automatically shuts the oven and gives her a thumbs up. Martha gives a thumbs up right back and leans over the stove to set the timer for 45 minutes.

“Now, we must wait for these bad boys to be finished. Wanna go watch reruns of shitty Christmas movies while we wait?” Martha asks, a fist on her hip and an eyebrow raised.

“I thought you'd never ask,” John grins wide and smug, lifts Martha up, throws the gigging woman over his shoulder and brings her into the living room and climbs onto the couch with her.

~*~

45 minutes of John being a little too handsy with Martha at this time of day and Martha being very responsive later, the timer for the cookies goes off. 

Martha gasps in excitement and untangles herself from a now very pouty John, makes her way to the kitchen. By the time John forces himself to get up, too, and follow Martha, she's already got the oven on and has oven mitts on her hands. 

John leans against the counter behind her, watches as she carefully pulls the tray of cookies out with both hands and sets them on the oven, kicks the oven door closed. John trots closer to her, peeks over Martha's shoulder. “We done now? Can we get back to what we were doing?” he whines.

“ _ No _ , we cannot go back to what we were doing. We have to ice these puppies!” Martha exclaims, a little incredulous that John would even  _ suggest  _ such a thing.

“Dag, baby, do we have to?” John pouts childishly at Martha once she turns her head a bit to face him.

“Yes, we do. And the sooner we get this done, the sooner we get to do  _ whatever _ you wanna do,” Martha says, bumps John's hip with her own with a teasing look on her face.

Well, that certainly intrigues John, to say the least. “Just point me in the direction you want me to go, baby.”

“Knew that'd get you interested,” Martha laughs a little, spins over to the fridge and pulls out some colored bottles of icing, sets them down on the counter next to the cookies. John notices red, green, yellow, blue, white, and brown. “Just outline the cookies with the colored icing, a’ight? You handle the trees and Santa hats, I'll take care of the rest. Like, uh, outline the leaves of the tree in green and the trunk of it in brown, ‘kay?” Martha asks, already outlining snowmen scarves with the blue icing.

“I gotchu, babygirl,” John salutes and reaches for the green icing, getting to work on his half of the cookies.

A little while later, they both have finished icing the cookies, then stepping back a bit to admire their work.

“Can I try one?” John asks quietly after a moment and Martha nods, smiles. 

“Go ahead, love. I've got plenty more batter that I can make more with later.”

John claps his hands together in childlike delight, reaches for one of the snowmen and happily shoves it in his mouth and chews, practically  _ moaning  _ with the taste. “Oh my, God, babygirl  these are  _ amazing _ .  _ Shit,  _ you are a baking  _ Goddess. _ ”

“Aww, shucks, Johnny. At least I had a very sweet assistant to help me, huh? A very handsome and loving assistant at that,” Martha says, throws an arm loosely around the man's waist.

“Mmm, and I had the prettiest lady tellin’ me what to do,” he says after hurrying to swallow the cookie. He places his hands on Martha's jaw, kisses her deep and passionate, sighs contentedly when she licks into his mouth. His hands move down and his arms wrap around her waist, pushing her lightly against the counter.

“Somehow, they taste even better when I'm tastin’ them from your mouth, babe,” Martha murmurs against John's lips after slowly pulling away, presses a few extra little kisses to his lips for good measure.

John laughs a little, a pretty little sound, and pushes himself against Martha even more. “Maybe I should let you taste some more, huh?”

“Mmm, that would be nice,” Martha says quietly while John reaches around her for another cookie. “I love you.”

“Love you, too,” John murmurs against Martha lovingly.


	3. 03. last minute present shopping

The next day, John is woken up by a very enthusiastic Martha hopping up and down on his lap with her hands on his chest. The movement is making John's head spin with arousal, so he blindly puts his hands on her hips in an attempt to calm her down, but all it does is get her more riled up.

Martha squirms around even more, pushes and shoves at John’s chest and whines. “Joooooohnny,” she drawls out his name for a while, shoves at him a bit more. “Wake up, wake up, wake up! We gotta go present shopping! We gotta go to the mall! Come  _ on _ !”

John groans for awhile and slowly pops one eye open to look at the overly excited Martha. He can’t help the slow smile that creeps over his face when he looks at the absolute excitement on his girlfriend’s face. Not wanting to keep her waiting (and also not wanting to keep her wriggling around on him), he opens both eyes and pushes himself up to rest on his elbows. “Alright, alright, I’m awake. What’s got you so excited anyways?”

“We have to go  _ present shopping _ , Johnny. Come on, get up, get ready!” Martha says, rolling off of John (much to his relief) and quickly standing up next to the bed. Only now does John notice that Martha’s already fully dressed.

“Marty. Babygirl. Christmas is in barely over a week. Aren’t we a little late to this whole present shopping thing?” John asks, very slowly pulls himself up to stand in front of Martha. He places one hand on her jaw and the other on the small of her back, kisses her deep and lovingly. Normally, Martha would be all over him now, but instead, she just bats him away.

“First of all, no kissing me ‘til you’ve brushed your teeth. Your morning breath is seriously bad,” Martha says, pulling a fond little laugh out of John. “Second of all, I  _ know  _ that Christmas is close, you complete and utter  _ buffoon _ . What’s your issue with doing a little last minute shopping?”

John’s about to argue and say that he  _ doesn’t  _ have a problem with last minute shopping, but he thinks that the idea is kinda lazy and something most procrastinators do all the time, but then he stops himself with a sudden intrusive thought. Only now does he realize that he completely and totally forgot the one present he absolutely  _ had  _ to get Martha, no matter what. So instead, he sighs for a very long time and grumpily starts getting ready.

“Atta boy!” Martha exclaims, proud and happy, and pecks John on the cheek. “I’ll be out in the car, warmin’ it up, alright? Just come outside when you’re done and then we can go. Love you!” she says just before rushing off.

“Love you, too,” John calls after her, anxiety about the special little present slowly creeping into the front of his mind while he slowly puts on warm clothes.

~*~

A little bit later, John steps up next to Martha's car, fully dressed, stands there for a little bit to watch her sing along to the Christmas music she's playing that he can just barely hear. He knocks on the passenger side window, making Martha jump up a bit in surprise. She grins wide at him, reaches over to unlock the car door and John quickly slips into the passenger seat. He reaches over for Martha's hand, slips his fingers in the spaces between hers, squeezes it lovingly. “Ready when you are, babygirl,” John whispers and Martha nods, briefly pats his arm with her free hand before pulling out of their apartment parking lot.

“You gon’ get anything while you're there?” Martha asks after a long, comfortable silence.

“I have, uh, something in mind that I wanna look for,” John says, nervously swipes his free hand against his jean-clad thigh. “I dunno if they'll even have what I'm tryna find, though. But it never hurts to look and see, right?”

Martha hums in agreement, glances over at John briefly. “Who’re you gettin’ something for? Or can you not say?” she asks, smiles teasingly and pulls into the mall parking lot.

“Can't say,” John says while squirming a bit. “It's gonna be a surprise for everyone there.” It's not  _ entirely  _ a lie. Only a few of his friends really know what John's planning and, even then, none of them even know  _ when  _ he's planning to give the present to Martha.

“Oh, that's right! The Schuylers and the guys are coming over on Christmas, right? Big ol’ gift exchange,” Martha says while parking the car. John nods and she turns the car off, briefly turns to face John. “I'm really excited for it, babe.”

“Me, too, Marty,” John responds quietly, leans across the console, presses a gentle kiss to Martha's lips.

Martha simply smiles goofily at John and hops out of the car, him following soon after. As soon as both of the car doors are closed and locked, Martha holds her hand out and John easily takes it in his own. She swings their interlocked hands as they make their into the mall.

“What are you lookin’ for?” John asks when they first enter the mall, letting go of Martha's hand only to wind his arm tightly around her waist.

“Mm, just some small little things for the Schuylers that I stumbled upon the other day online and I just  _ had _ to get for them,” Martha replies, arm winding around John's waist, too, and squeezes him a bit. “And, who knows, I might stumble upon something perfect for someone else.”

“I'm sure they'll love it. You're a  _ terrific  _ gift giver,” John says fondly, eyes briefly catching on some jewelry store. “Well, this is where I leave you, babygirl. I see the store I gotta hop into.”

“What a coincidence,” Martha smiles widely as they unwind themselves from each other, “I  _ also  _ see the store I need to go to. Meet back at the entrance in an hour?”

“Sounds good. I love you, sweet thing,” John murmurs, presses a gentle kiss to her temple before taking off towards the jewelry store. Slowly, though, to make sure that Martha would be off in her own store, not able to see him walk into the store he has in mind. He glances over his shoulder and sighs in relief before rushing off.

When he enters the jewelry store, he instantly feels a wave of anxiety crash over him. What if he can't find the right ring? What if Martha sees him in here? It's just what if after what if in his mind while he's perusing the aisles.

He's sort of mindlessly wandering after a bit, glancing this way and that way until his eye catches on something. He's not sure why, but he suddenly gets the feeling that he just  _ has  _ to get a closer look at the item in question. And boy is he glad that he did. The ring in front of him is  _ gorgeous.  _ It's got two decent sized diamonds on top and small little diamonds surrounding those. He thinks it looks beautiful, just like his Martha. He decides, then and there, that this is the ring for his girl.

John waves down an employee, points frantically at the ring in question, says that his girl  _ needs  _ to have it. The guy smiles at John, gets the ring out for him and brings it to the front counter, him following close behind. He tells John the price and his eyes kinda bulge out of his head for a moment before deciding that it'll be worth it, so he pulls out his wallet and tosses the necessary bills onto the counter. The guy puts it into a small velvet box, hands John the receipts. He quickly signs the one for the store and then grabs the one for himself quickly. He smiles at the employee, says a quiet little thanks before rushing out of the store.

Before he gets back to the front of the store, he finds a trashcan to dump the receipt in--he can't have Martha accidentally stumble upon it. He then shoves the box into his coat pocket, makes sure it isn't noticeable, then waits around for Martha to finish up.

After a while, Martha shows up, rushing towards John with a bag in hand. “Hey, sorry I'm a little late!” she says when she's closer to him, presses a quick kiss to his cheek. “You find what you were looking for?”

“Nah,” John lies, “but it's a’ight. I didn't need to get it, just figured it might be a nice li’l addition, y'know?” He wraps his arm around Martha as they begin walking out of the mall.

“You'll get ‘em next time, yeah?” Martha smiles up at him, pushes as close to him as possible while they're in the cold outdoors. “For now, let's just focus on getting home and getting comfy, yeah?”

“Mm, sounds good,” John murmurs, opens the trunk of their car when they make it over. Martha smiles gratefully, shoves the bag into the car and shuts the trunk. They both get to their sides of the car and jump in.

“Johnny?” Martha asks while she starts the car and turns on the heater.

“Yeah?” John replies, briefly glances at Martha with a soft smile on his face.

“I love you so much,” Martha replies as she pulls out of the parking lot.

“I love you so much, too, baby. More than you'll ever know,” John says lovingly, one hand on the box in his pocket and the other on Martha's forearm while she sets off for their apartment.


	4. 04. present wrapping

When John woke up the next morning, he expected to see Martha sleeping next to him, but she wasn’t there. He hears some faint music coming from what sounded like the living room, so he decides to go investigate. He throws the covers off of himself, stands up and throws on some shirt. As he pushes open the bedroom door, he pulls his hair back into a messy bun, yawns and stretches his arms lazily as he meanders towards the source of the music.

Walking into the living room, the first thing he sees is Martha sitting cross-legged on the couch with some tubes of wrapping paper scattered around and a couple wrapped boxes on the floor. Because of the way she’s sitting, she can’t see John as he flops onto the couch behind her, narrowly missing the scissors that are right behind the woman.

She turns her head when she feels the couch shift, smiles wide when she sees John. She leans backwards for a kiss, lingers against John for a while, humming happily. “‘M glad you’re up, baby boy,” she murmurs softly and John can hear a hint of sleepiness.

“Yeah? Whatcha doin’, sweet thing?” John asks, moves the scissors out of the way and leans forward to press himself against Martha’s backside. He hooks his chin over her shoulder, tilts his head to press a little kiss to her neck.

“You ‘member how I said I was getting some things for the Schuylers yesterday?” Martha asks, melting under the closeness. John nods and Martha takes it as a sign to continue. “I may have gone a little overboard? I, uh, got one extra thing for all your siblings, who are coming over in a couple days, in case you forgot, and stuff for all the guys. So that’s like, what, ten new presents I have to wrap in total? And I’ve already done two, so make that eight, I guess.”

“Wow. Didn’t you  _ already  _ go overboard with presents for my siblings? And didn’t you, like,  _ paint _ somethin’ for Patsy, too? I’m pretty sure all my siblings love you already, sweet thing,” John says, teasingly pinches at Martha’s sides. She squeals and squirms a bit.

“Okay, well,  _ maybe  _ I did. But it’s only Patsy that I went overboard with. She’s, like, the closest person to you, Johnny. I need to be absolutely certain that she likes me. If your siblings don’t like me, then I’m royally fucked,” Martha pouts, reaches behind her to pat John’s knee. “If I have anything to say about it, then they’re gonna be practically  _ begging  _ me to marry you by the end of the day that they come over.”

John freezes a bit at that, hides his face in the back of her shoulder. He knows it’s silly, but he can’t help but think that she knows about the little ring that’s still in his coat pocket. “Relax, darlin’. Patsy already adores you.”

“How can you be so sure?” Martha asks, shifts in John’s arms to face him and give him a very serious look.

“Because she told me so,” John says, to which Martha gives an incredulous look. “Seriously! When I was walking her out that day that she came up to meet you for the first time, she told me that she thought you’re amazing and wonderful. She said that you’re really good for me,” he says the last part quietly, a little shyly, his head buried in Martha’s neck.

“Wow. Okay. Um. I’m not sure how to respond to that? But I feel a lot less anxious about her now. It’s just Harry, Mary, and James that I gotta worry about,” Martha says quietly, turns back around to face the box that had been in front of her.

“They already love you, too. Especially Mary, she’s crazy ‘bout you. She always asks about you whenever I’m on the phone with her. I think she likes you more than she likes me,” John tells Martha, laughs a little as he speaks. Martha smiles at that, reaches down for the roll of wrapping paper that’s right on the floor next to them. “You’ve got nothing to worry about, love, I promise.”

“Well, what about your dad? Is he coming up, too?” Martha asks, rolls out a decent amount of wrapping paper.

John tenses a little and shakes his head slowly. “Things are getting better between us, but I don’t think we’re really at the level of me inviting him up here to meet you in person, though. Maybe one year.”

“Okay, good. I was hoping he wasn’t gonna be here, I didn’t get him a present,” Martha frowns while John laughs a little, pulls Martha into his lap. “What? I had no idea what to even get him!”

John laughs again and peppers kisses all over the side of Martha’s face while she cuts the wrapping paper. His arms instinctively wind tightly around her waist and he presses his lips against her shoulder, lingers there while she tapes the paper to the box in front of her.

It’s comfortably silent for a long while, John holding Martha tightly and Martha slowly working through her pile of boxes until she yawns and stretches her arms out, opens and closes her mouth sleepily. “You tired?” John asks against her neck, brows furrowed in concern.

“A little. But it’s fine, I can just-” Martha gets cut off by another yawn and she frowns. “I can just rest when I finish,” she finishes.

John frowns, worried, slides Martha off his lap and goes over to sit across from her. “How ‘bout I help you with the rest of these and then we can go lay down when we’re all done, okay?”

“I couldn’t ask you to do that, Johnny,” Martha says, frowns up at him a bit.

“Which is why I’m asking  _ you  _ to  _ let  _ me help,” John says, nods to himself and takes the wrapped box from Martha’s hands. “I can put bows on and label them while you wrap, okay?”

Martha sighs and begrudgingly nods. “Alright, fine. That one’s for Mary,” she murmurs, already getting to work on the next box.

John mock salutes, grabs the bows, labels, and pen from Martha’s lap. He puts a nice little bow that he thinks that his little sister would like in the middle of the box, sticks a tag in the corner and scrawls Mary’s name next to the little “to” and Martha’s name next to the little “from” on the label.

They continue like that for awhile, Martha wrapping and telling John who the present’s for, him putting a bow and a label with the recipient’s name and Martha’s name on it before setting it aside. After about twenty minutes, John finishes labeling the very last present. He gets up with all the boxes teetering dangerously in his arms and sets them under the tree carefully. He goes back to Martha, sweeps her up in his arms bridal style. “It’s time for my sweet girl to get some sleep,” he whispers, kisses her temple and carries her to their room while she smiles.

“Only if you join me, peach,” Martha says quietly, speech a little slurred with how tired she is. She lazily grips John’s shirt with one hand, eyes fluttering shut.

“Wouldn’t dream of  _ not  _ joining you, babygirl,” John murmurs, sweeping the covers aside and setting Martha down carefully. He slides in next to her, pulls the blankets up over both of them and shifts to lay behind Martha on his side, presses every inch of himself up against her. Sighing in content, he presses a little kiss to the space right behind her ear, to which she giggles a little bit. “G’night, darlin’,” John whispers, despite it being seven in the morning, “I love you very much.”

“I love you very much, too,” Martha whispers right back, easily drifting back to sleep.


	5. 05. making a gingerbread house

The next morning starts off a little bit differently. Today, John's the one to wake up first. He doesn't want to get out of bed, though, decides to just lay there and admire his girlfriend. The girlfriend who he hopes will become his fiancée on Christmas day.

When Martha wakes up, it's to John tracing slow circles on her thigh. She smiles wide when she sees him, leans forward to peck his lips. John notices that today, of all days, she seems to tolerate his morning breath. “Hey,” she murmurs, still sounding sleepy.

“Hey,” John grumbles, voice rough and husky from sleep. He traces his fingers feather-light along Martha's side, her shivering a bit. “Any plans for today?”

Martha shakes her head, curls a bit closer to John. “You got anything in mind for today?” she asks while running her own hand along John's side. He shivers.

“I was thinkin’ we could build that gingerbread house we got,” John says, hand lingering on Martha's waist.

“Oh, right! I forgot about that!” Martha exclaims, looking a lot more awake. “I'd love to, but I don't feel like gettin’ up and outta bed,” she pouts a bit.

“How about,” John draws the words out, squeezes her waist lightly, “I go get the kit, come back here, and then we can build it in bed. How's that sound?” he suggests, raises both eyebrows in anticipation.

“Mm, hurry back, peach,” Martha murmurs while John presses a kiss against her forehead and rushes out the room.

John returns quickly, gingerbread house kit in hand. He flops down on the bed, slides back underneath the covers. “You ready for this bad boy?”

Martha pushes herself up, back against the headboard and head against John's shoulder. She easily tangles their legs together and smiles fondly, says, “Aye aye, cap’n.”

John smiles right back and easily pops the box open. He pulls all the different pieces out and sets them on his lap before tossing the box itself across the room.

“Aren't the instructions on the back of the box?” Martha asks, leans forward briefly to look at the tossed box.

“Nah,” John says, waves the piece of the paper with the directions briefly. “You really think I'm dumb enough to do that?”

“Sometimes, yeah,” Martha giggles while John slowly turns his head to glare at her. He quickly pushes the pieces of the house off of his lap, pushes Martha against the bed and tickles her sides relentlessly. She laughs so hard that she ends up snorting, tries to push him away. He only increases his attack while Martha kicks around him and stutters out a squealed, “Stop!” while John starts kissing up and down her neck. 

He stills after awhile, sits back up and pulls Martha up with him. “That'll teach you not to make fun of you,” John says teasingly bitter while pulling the gingerbread house pieces back onto his lap.

“It was worth it,” Martha sings, pulls a few of the pieces off of John's lap and into her own.

“You're lucky I wanna get this thing made so we can snuggle soon, or else I'd be tickling you more,” John grumbles while opening the bags in his lap with his teeth.

“Aw, did you seriously just say  _ snuggle _ ? That's adorable, Johnny!” Martha exclaims, a little giggly while she rips her own bags open and carefully pulling out the gingerbread walls.

“How dare you, I'm not adorable, I'm manly as hell,” John grumbles and pouts furiously while he pulls out his own gingerbread walls along with frosting and gumdrops.

“Mm, my manly man,” Martha says fondly while sitting up straighter, legs crossed under her. “Now. Let’s get to work, yeah?”

John nods and mock salutes her, presses a quick kiss to her cheek and then they set to work. Martha frosts the edges of gingerbread pieces and John sticks those pieces together. Then, Martha makes tiny circles with the frosting all around and John sticks gumdrops in. Lastly, Martha makes little designs on the house with frosting, like a door, windows and details on the roof.

Probably about an hour and a half later, the gingerbread house is entirely finished. Martha gets up for a while to run and go get a plate from the kitchen, John holding the house carefully in his hands. When she returns, he slowly sets their creation on the plate and, once Martha has it stable, gets up and follows her to the kitchen. She sets it in the middle of the dining room table and stands back to admire it. John stands back with her, throws an arm around her waist, pulls her close to him, and turns his head to kiss her temple.

“You think your siblings are gonna like it?” Martha asks after a long silence, slowly drags her eyes up towards John with her eyebrows raised.

“Definitely. I’m sure they’ll all find it about as beautiful as you are,” John says with that wide, charming smile of his and Martha blushes furiously, one hand covering her face and the other blindly whacking John’s stomach. “What? You’re  _ gorgeous _ , Marty. I ain’t afraid of sayin’ it.”

“Oh my, God, you  _ sap _ , shut  _ up _ !” Martha squeals, hiding her face with both hands now. She turns to bury her face in his chest, drags her hands away from her face and throws them around John, whines a bit.

“I’ve got the prettiest girlfriend in the whole wide world,” John sings, nudges Martha away from his chest, who only blushes even harder. “She’s so cute and funny and nice!” he continues, succeeds in getting Martha away from his chest now, wraps his arm around her waist, hand spread on her back, takes her hand in his and starts to sway her from side to side with him. “I’ve got the prettiest girlfriend in the whole wide world and I’d do anything for her,” John finishes his little ditty by spinning Martha so that her back is pressed against him and his arms are crossed over her chest.

“Well, I’ve got the sweetest boyfriend in the whole wide world,” Martha sings, a sly smile on her face. “He’s so cute and silly and dorky!” she continues, turns around in John’s arms to continue their swaying. “I’ve got the sweetest boyfriend in the whole wide world and I’d gladly fight anyone for him,” Martha finishes her own little ditty by sliding her hand off of John’s shoulder, bringing it up to his jaw, tilts his head towards her and kisses him deep and happily.

“Hey, Marty?” John asks against her lips after slowly breaking apart, instinctively tugs Martha a little bit closer to him.

“Yes, Johnny?” Martha asks, leans in and kisses him one more time for good measure.

“I love you. Like,  _ so  _ much,” he murmurs against her, eyes fluttering shut.

“I love you, too, you massive dork. Let’s go lay back down, yeah?” Martha replies, dragging the sleepy man back to their bedroom when he nods slowly against her.


	6. 06. family visit

It’s about mid-afternoon when John first sees Martha start to panic a little about his siblings coming to visit today.

They’re both ready already, dressed a bit on the casual side in matching sweaters, pairs of jeans, and fuzzy socks. John’s nothing but incredibly excited to see all of siblings, if he’s being completely honest. Martha, on the other hand, seems a bit freaked out.

She’s in the bathroom for probably the fifth time today, scrutinizing herself in the mirror, trying to find something to fix, when John finds her. He steps in next to her, throws an arm around her waist and looks at them in the mirror, though he’s really just looking at Martha. “You have nothing to worry about,” John whispers, a bit of concern leaking into his voice.

“Did you mean: I have  _ everything  _ to worry about?” Martha asks, glares at John’s reflection in the mirror. He just looks confused, so she turns to look at him, frowns deeply. “Johnny. I don’t think you understand the gravity of the situation.”

“I think you’re overreacting,” John says immediately, his tone showing that he means business. “Seriously. My sibs are great folks. They’re all seriously excited to see you again. You don’t need to worry about making them all like you, sweet thing. They already think you’re great.”

“Well, what if I screw that up, then, Johnny?” Martha asks, cocks her hip and rests her fist on it.

“How could you screw it up?” John asks, frowns with his worrying over his girl.

“I could… I don't know, I could definitely say something mean to them on accident,” Martha says, looking a lot less passionate about the subject.

“Oh, my sweet thing,” John says quietly, pulls Martha into his chest so he can hug her tightly. “I promise that there is nothing you could do or say that would make them like you any less. They all think you're wonderful, I promise.”

Martha wraps her arms around John, grips the back of his sweater, huffs a bit. “You promise it'll be okay?”

“I promise, girlie. You just focus on makin’ sure that you're a’ight, okay?” John asks, nudges Martha's face away from him to cup her cheek.

Martha nods, perhaps a bit shaky, leans up to press a careful little peck on his lips. “Yeah, okay. I love you, Johnny.”

“I love you, too, Marty. I'mma go in the living room to wait for them all. You come out and wait with me when you're ready, sweet thing,” John presses a quick kiss to her forehead, pats her butt absently before slipping away and out of the bathroom.

Martha sighs, runs her hands down her face for a moment. She gives her reflection in the mirror a very serious look. “You  _ got  _ this, Martha. You're gonna woo his siblings for the second time and woo John with how amazing you are with them. You can  _ do  _ this,” After Martha's little pep talk to herself, she trots into the living room, noticeably lighter on her feet. She falls onto the couch next to John, grabbing the arm that was resting on top of the couch and pulls it close to her.

“Hey. You feelin’ better?” John asks, pulls Martha closer, who just nods in response. “Good. Patsy just texted me. Said they'll be here in a few minutes.”

“You excited?” Martha asks, rests her head on John's shoulder.

“Very,” John says happily, fondly. “You mind if I put on some Christmas music for ambience or whatever?” Martha shakes her head, so John leans forward and grabs the TV remote, turns it on and puts it on the holiday music channel, sits back and gets comfortable with Martha.

Several minutes later, they hear a sharp knock on the door. While John jumps up and circles the room with his excitement, repeats, “They're here,” over and over again, Martha gets up to go open the door. When she opens it, she sees the familiar freckled faces of John's siblings (and in James’ case, his not-so-freckled face). Patsy easily throws her arms around Martha in excitement, squeezes her close. “Oh, I'm so glad to see you again!” she exclaims, Martha smiling wide. 

“Hey, I'm so glad to see y'all, too!” Martha replies easily when Patsy pulls away. She steps away from the door, motions towards the living room and says, “Come in! Johnny’s inside. He's so, so excited to see y'all.”

As all of John's siblings step through the doorway, they all give Martha a side hug. James hesitates when he gets up to Martha, so she just pulls him into a tight hug herself, earning a bashful smile from the boy. She grins wide and fond when she closes the door after James makes it in and turns, sees John excitedly chattering and hugging all this siblings. She makes her way back into the living room and John perks up when he sees her.

“There she is!” John chirps, pulls Martha close to his side, to which Patsy fondly smiles at them. “Aw, man. All my favorite people are here with me. This is the greatest,” he sighs happily, looks at everyone in the room lovingly.

“Well, there's no fun in standing here!” Patsy says suddenly. “Let's enjoy ourselves!”

~*~

After presents are exchanged, John and Patsy split off a bit to catch up. Patsy soon notices a lull in the conversation as John's started to just sort of dreamily stares at Martha. Rolling her eyes, she snaps her fingers in John's face, making him jump up in surprise and look at her with wide eyes. “What was that for?” John asks.

“You were spacing off,” Patsy replies with an all-knowing look on her face. “What's up with you, Jack? You seem even crazier about Martha than usual.”

“Ha ha,” John grumbles sarcastically, to which Patsy giggles. “It's just. Ugh. I don't know. There's just. Something I wanna do for her. To her? I don't know. I'm not good with words. But, um. Just. Come with me,” he eventually stutters out, slides out of his seat at the kitchen island, Patsy quickly following behind. John leads her to his and Martha's room, opens up his nightstand and thrashes his hand around while Patsy raises an eyebrow in amusement. He eventually pulls out the box in which the ring he bought a few days ago sits in, opens the velvet slowly.

“No,” Patsy gasps. “Is this what I think it is? she asks breathlessly, carefully takes the box into her own hands and examines it closely.

“I wanna propose to her. Hopefully on Christmas, in front of all our friends,” John murmurs, eyes a bit shiny as he watches his sister's reaction. “But I don’t know. I could get the urge to ask her sooner than that.”

“Aw, Jacky, that's so sweet!” Patsy exclaims, hands the box back to John. “And, man, this ring? It's seriously gorgeous.”

“You think she’ll say yes?” John asks quietly, nervously.

“Dude,” Patsy says, gives John a very unimpressed look. “Only in some sort of alternate universe where y’all aren’t together would she say no. Like, you should see the way she looks at you when she thinks nobody is looking. It’s like how  _ you  _ look at  _ her _ . Just loving and proud and it’s like she thinks that you hung all the stars in the sky just for her. She’s  _ crazy  _ about you.”

“Oh,” John mumbles, eyes wide. He slowly closes the box and shoves it back in his nightstand, makes sure to hide it under several different things. “So you think it’ll be a success?”

“Of course. You could propose to her with a ratty ass  _ string  _ and she’d still say yes,” Patsy says matter-of-factly, John snorting a bit. “There’s no doubt in my mind that, come Christmas day, you two will be engaged. Now c’mon, she’s probably wondering where you are.”

John follows Patsy as she starts to leave the room, breathes slowly to try to get himself to chill. When Martha sees them, she steps closer to John, leans up and pecks him gently on the lips. “There you are! Where’d you go?”

“I, uh. I wanted to get Patsy’s opinion on some drawing I started the other day,” John says quickly, nervously. Martha raises a concerned eyebrow, but doesn’t press the matter.

“Now that we’re all here again,” Harry says. “Y’all wanna watch Christmas movies together? Like one big ol’ happy family?”

Mary nods enthusiastically, pulls James and Harry along by the hands to go sit on the floor together. Patsy follows along, giggling and curls up on the couch behind her three younger siblings. John raises both eyebrows at Martha expectantly, hands easily coming to her waist. Martha laughs, drags John along to the couch, curls up in his side, throws her legs over his lap.

“Hey, Marty?” John whispers close to Martha’s ear after Harry puts on some Christmas rom-com. Martha hums in response. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Martha whispers gently, leans up to press a few gentle kisses to John’s lips.


	7. 07. mistletoe shenanigans

The next day, when John wakes up, it’s with a wide, somewhat smug grin. He’s decided that today, he’s going to be far nerdier than usual and carry around some mistletoe. He’s also decided that he’s going to hang up sprigs of mistletoe everywhere so that Martha  _ has  _ to kiss him all day. Perhaps he’s just feeling very sappy today or something, but he’d kind of like to make Martha kiss him whenever he wants.

He slips out of bed, careful not to wake Martha up in the process, sneaks out of their bedroom. In the living room, he starts hanging up mistletoe everywhere he can reach. He’s absolutely determined to get as many kisses in today as humanly possible.

When Martha makes it out of their room, John's just finished hanging up the last sprig of mistletoe, keeping one in his pocket, just in case. “Hey,” Martha says, yawns and stretches while she walks over to John. “I'm still very tired from how late they all stayed last night. Whatcha doing?”

“Look up,” is all John says, grinning impossibly wide. Looking confused, Martha slowly tilts her head upwards, snorts when she sees the little green leaves above her head. John leans down a bit so Martha can reach his face, points at his cheek repeatedly. “You gotta kiss me, babygirl. It’s  _ tradition _ .”

Martha rolls her eyes over-exaggeratedly, leans forward to press a kiss to John’s cheek. “You’re a dork,” she murmurs, sets her hands on John’s hips. “There’s more mistletoe hung up, isn’t there?” John simply smiles in an all-knowing way. “We’re dating, dummy, you can just ask me to kiss you whenever you want.”

“Yeah but that’s not as fun,” John pouts. Martha rolls her eyes again, pinches John’s sides, to which he squeaks and wiggles out of Martha’s hands. “I know I can get kisses whenever I want, but where’s the fun in that? ‘Sides, I like the face you get when I do dorky stuff.”

“Well, prepare yourself to see it a ton today, then,” Martha replies, chuckles a bit under her breath, shifting away from John to go to the kitchen. John quickly follows her, smiles devilishly when he sees her standing underneath the mistletoe he placed on the ceiling of the pantry. He sneaks behind her, wraps his arms tightly around her waist.

“Look up,” he says for the second time today. He smiles oh so wide while he watches her look up and slowly realize. She twists in his arms, glares at him playfully before grabbing his face and kissing him gently before turning back around and grabbing a cereal bar and slipping out of his arms. John pouts, follows after her quickly. She plops down on the couch so, not wanting to waste any time being not right next to her, he hops over the couch and curls up right next to her. He pulls her into his lap and nuzzles her neck.

“There aren’t any mistletoe sprigs above my head, are there?” Martha asks, side eyes John. He shakes his head against her neck and she sighs in mock relief. She feels a grin against her neck, though, so her eyebrows raise in suspicion. “Jooooohnny. Is there something you’re not telling me?” John laughs a little and she nudges his side a bit. “There’s totally some above my head, isn’t there?”

“Nooo,” John says, a bit giggly and happy as he discreetly pulls the mistletoe he had saved in his pocket, very slowly raises it above their heads. “But there is now.”

“What?” Martha looks up, sees John holding up some more of the little green leaves above them. “Oh, my God, Johnny, are you for real?” John nods excitedly. “I can’t believe I’m in love with a major dweeb,” she says incredulously, nudges John’s face away from her neck. She grabs his face with both hands, kisses him deeply and passionately. She forces as much into the kiss, tries to leave him satiated. John sighs, whines a little bit into the kiss. Martha slips into his lap, John shifting a bit underneath her to keep himself from getting too flustered. When she pulls away, she raises both brows expectantly. “We done with the mistletoe shit for today?”

“Not if you’re gonna keep givin’ me kisses like that,” John whispers, a little awe struck, slowly flopping his arm down at his side, face bright red.

“Damn, I thought that would leave you satiated for the rest of the day,” Martha grumbles, slides off of John’s lap.

“Nothin’ could ever make me not wanna kiss you, sweet thing,” John whispers, grins and slides his hands onto her waist. “Especially if those kisses are anythin’ like that, ‘cause  _ shit _ , baby. You drive me crazy.”

“You drive me crazy, too, dork,” Martha says fondly, sets her legs into John’s lap. He immediately reaches out, holds her ankles in his hands, protectively almost. “I don’t say this often enough, but you’re the best, Johnny.” John scoffs and she gives him a very serious look. “Honestly. I know that you never believe it when I say it, but you’re truly the best. You’re the greatest thing that’s ever happened to me. Thank you. For existing, that is.”

John smiles bashfully, blushes a bit, shyly tucks loose curls behind his ear. “Jeez, didn’t realize we’d get real today.”

“Stop tryna deflect compliments, Johnny.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Martha frowns, scoots a bit closer to him. “John. You do this all the time. I say something nice to you, thank you for being there for me, yadda yadda. And then you just… You deflect it. You avoid the compliment. What’s up with that? Can’t a girl just give her boy the love he deserves?”

John shrugs, looks way. “Compliments are just hard for me.”

“I get that. But you should learn to take them more often. Not from just anyone, if you don’t want to. I just wanna be able to compliment you without you gettin’ all weird about it, is that too much to ask for?”

“I… No, it’s not,” John breathes, runs a hand absently up and down Martha’s leg. “I’ll try to be chill about it. Only with you. And for you. Okay?”

“Alright, that’s all I ask. That you  _ try _ . Thank you,” Martha leans forward, grabs the mistletoe that’s still resting in John’s hand, holds it above them. “Now  _ you  _ gotta kiss  _ me _ .”

John rolls his eyes, puts a hand on Martha’s face, kisses her deeply. He pulls away after a bit, rests his forehead against hers. “I love you so, so much, Marty. Forever and ever.”   


“I love you so, so much, too, Johnny,” Martha murmurs, eyes fluttering shut. “Forever and ever.”


	8. 08. snow day

“It’s really comin’ down out there,” Martha says quietly, almost in awe, more to herself than the very sleepy John who’s just stumbled out of their room, as she watches the snow outside..

“Sure is,” John replies, stretches as he gets closer to Martha. He wraps his arms around her tightly from behind, chin on the top of her head, watching the snow with curiosity himself.

“You think we’ll get snowed in?” Martha asks, hands carefully setting down her coffee cup, puts her hands on top of John's. “You’re cold,” she murmurs absently.

“That’d be exciting, wouldn’t it?” John answers, hums to himself. He frowns a bit with her following words, whispers a little, “Sorry,” under his breath.

“I guess,” Martha sighs, turns in John's arms, leans up to carefully kiss his lips. “Wanna go play in the snow before it gets too deep?” she asks, grins against his lips.

“I would love nothing more,” John answers, slips away from Martha to go get dressed. Martha follows quickly, already throwing off her shirt as she rushes to their room.

They spend the next ten or so minutes getting dressed next to each other, laughing and giggling together. John occasionally glances over at Martha, gets all flustered with how beautiful she is, dies a little because he considers himself to be incredibly lucky to be allowed to be close to Martha.

A little while later, they’re both decked out in coats, matching hats and scarves, gloves, and boots, ready to go play in snow like they’re children again. “You ready for this?” John asks, reaches over and grabs Martha’s covered hand in his own.

“You got it, babe,” Martha replies, grins excitedly, leans up to peck John’s cheek real quick before dragging him out of their apartment. She locks the door quickly behind them and they rush to the elevator, anticipate their arrival to the bottom floor excitedly. As soon as the elevator dings, indicating that they’ve made it to the ground floor, Martha takes off running outside. John hesitates for a moment, watches Martha lovingly before taking off right behind her.

The first thing John does when he makes it outside is, of course, slip on a patch of ice and falling directly into a pile of snow. Martha turns her head upon hearing the impact, bursts out laughing when she sees John laying there, looking rather pouty.

“Did you fall, Johnny?” Martha asks while stepping closer, mindful of the ice he had just slipped on, trying really hard to stop laughing.

“No, I just decided to take a little nap in the snow,” John grumbles, only making Martha laugh even more. She reaches her hand out to help him up and he takes her hand, but instead of pulling himself up, he pulls her down into the snow next to him, makes her laugh even more.

“Oh, my God, you jerk!” Martha cackles, swats at John’s chest, his arm underneath her.

“Yeah, but you love me, Marty,” John says smugly, slowly pushes himself up and slides his arm out from under her so he’s sitting in the snow. After Martha’s laughter dies out a little, she pushes herself up, too, leans against John heavily. “If anyone’s a jerk, it’s the one who laughed at me for slipping,” he pouts, nudges Martha away from him to shakily stand up.

“Hm, I wonder who that was,” Martha giggles out, stands up herself, brushes her hands down her legs to clear herself from snow.

“Yeah, I guess we’ll never know,” John grumbles, brushes himself from snow as well, Martha smiling an award-winning smile. He shakes his head fondly, swipes off his ass and back as much as he can.

“You need some help with that?” Martha asks, leans closer to John.

“You just want an excuse to touch my butt, don’t you?” John asks, raises an accusatory eyebrow.

“Noooo,” Martha replies, feins innocence. “Even if I  _ did  _ want an excuse, I wouldn’t need it, ‘cause that butt is all mine now,” she says, smugly, clings to John’s back.

“You  _ wish  _ it was yours,” John replies, snorts and turns in Martha’s grip. “If anyone’s ass is anyone’s, it’s yours that’s mine,” he finishes, tries to discreetly lean down to grab some snow in his glove-clad hand.

Martha laughs, leans up and kisses John deeply, leaves a few pecks after she pulls away from him, casually slips her hands down to pat his ass a bit. “ _ Mine _ ,” she says matter-of-factly, John rolling his eyes fondly.

He finally manages to get some snow in his hand, brings it up to cup Martha’s cheek. She squeals and jumps away from him when she feels the ice against her bare cheek, quickly tries to swipe the coldness off of her face. “Oh, my God, you jerk, I’m gonna kill you!” she squeaks out, shivers and glares at John.

“No you won’t, you  _ love  _ me,” John replies, sticks his tongue out teasingly.

“Perhaps,” Martha says, kneels down to pack some snow in her hands, “but that doesn’t mean that I’m above giving you a taste of your own medicine.” Before John has any time to react, she’s reeling back and throwing the ball right into John’s face.

He sputters, quickly wipes off his face, glares heavily at John. “Oh, you’re in for it, babe,” John says icily, leans down and gathers snow in his own hands again, throws it and hits her shoulder.

Martha gasps dramatically at that, looks at John with the most betrayed look she can muster. “This is  _ war _ , Johnny,” she speaks in a very serious tone with a very serious face.

“All’s fair in love and war, babygirl!” John shouts, raises a fist excitedly before rushing off to make as many snow balls as possible to throw them at her. She rushes off in the opposite direction, starts building herself a snow fortress. 

~*~

A few hours later, their snow war has been declared a tie. They pretend to glare at each other as they shake each other’s hands in a truce, but they both break out into huge, sappy grins.

“That was a lot of fun, Johnny, thank you for that,” Martha murmurs as John holds her close, walks her back inside their apartment building.

“Of course, baby,” John replies, pushes the button on the elevator. “I had fun, too. Mostly because I was with you, but that’s besides the point.”

“You’re such a  _ sap, _ ” Martha says while they walk into the empty elevator. “But you’re my sap, so it’s okay.”

“All yours, forever and always,” John whispers, squeezes her close to him. “I’m your sap and you’re my sweet thing,” he nods to himself, proud of his words.

“Mmm, I love it when you call me that,” Martha mumbles, head on John’s shoulder.

“What? ‘Sweet thing’?” John asks, brows furrowing a bit. Martha nods and hums a bit. “Well, I love callin’ you that, so it’s a win-win.”

“That it is,” Martha sighs happily as they step out of the elevator now, make it back into their apartment. 

They both start to strip out of their wet clothes, silently make their way into their room to put on some warm pajamas. John crawls into bed underneath the covers first and Martha follows, curls up in his outstretched arms. He holds her close, head on top of hers, and she nuzzles his collar bone a bit, hums oh so happily and contentedly.

“I love you, baby boy,” Martha says, slowly starting to drift off already.

“I love you, too, sweet thing,” John murmurs, eyes fluttering shut as the both of them fall asleep, wrapped up in each other.


	9. 09. ice skating

The very next day, Martha decides that her and John absolutely  _ must  _ go ice skating. To John’s whined out  _ why _ , Martha simply told him that it’s a staple of the season and that they have to go ice skating whether they like it or not. While Martha happily got dressed, John got ready very poutily. He was  _ not  _ looking forward to embarrassing himself in front of people, but Martha seemed very excited, so he decided that he would suck it up.

When they made it to the ice skating rink, Martha smiled so wide that John couldn’t help but smile, too. She takes his hand in hers, drags him to the counter to excitedly rent their skates. She continues to drag him over to a bench to put their skates on. While Martha’s pulling her boots off and replacing them with the white shoes, John watches her with fond eyes, does the same. He doesn’t understand why she loves ice skating so much, but he certainly loves that happy little look on her face.

After a bit, they’ve both got their skates on and Martha stands up, looking triumphant. John stands up a bit shakily, grabs Martha’s arm for support so he doesn’t fall over this soon in the day.

“You good?” Martha asks, gives John a bit of a concerned look.

“Yeah. Just. Haven’t gone ice skating since I was, like, ten. And back then, I wasn’t very good at it. So I’m probably gonna make a fool out of myself, but it’s fine,” John replies, eyes the rink warily.

“It’ll be okay, Johnny. You can hold my hand and we can stay by the walls so you can hold on. And no one will make fun of you, ‘cause I know you think that’s what’s gonna happen, but it’s not. Nobody  _ cares  _ if you’re good or not at ice skating!” Martha exclaims, slides a hand down to grab John’s tightly.

“Yeah, alright. Just. Lead the way?” John says, although it sounds like he’s asking her more than anything. Martha smiles reassuringly at him and slowly leads them to the ice, lets John take his time.

They’re standing right in front of the entrance to the rink now and John looks terrified. “Deep breaths, baby boy,” Martha says quietly, a bit concerned. John nods, takes a deep, slow breath in, lets it out slowly before nodding at her, indicates that he’s good to go. She squeezes his hand before stepping onto the ice, stumbles briefly; it’s been a while since she skated last. John slowly follows after she catches her balance, stumbling a lot more than she did, grabs her shoulders in a death grip. She briefly winces before smiling softly at him. “You’re okay, Johnny. I got you.”

John takes another deep breath, nods, loosens his grip on her, grabs the wall with one hand, tries to calm his shaky legs. “Jesus. This is terrifying.”

“You’ll get over it, baby boy,” Martha replies, smiles lovingly. “Wanna just stand here, catch your breath for a bit? I can go skate around, get back into my groove.” John nods a bit jerkily, takes a huffy breath. “Okay. Just watch how I move, okay? You don’t have to be as quick as I can get, of course, but the leg movements are the same, no matter how fast you go,” Martha says, pecks John’s cheek before skating off.

“I’m always watchin’ how you move, if you know what I mean,” John murmurs just as she’s leaving, watches her skate circles around him in awe. He doesn’t think he’s seen Martha more in her element before. She looks so at peace, so  _ free  _ as she skates around, twirls and jumps, and John’s in love with the content smile on her face. She only slides up next to him when he’s finally managed to catch his breath and he gives her a wide-eyed look. “ _ Whoa _ . How long have you been skatin’, sweet thing?” John asks, wants to put his hands on her, but he doesn’t trust his legs to work without the support of the wall.

“Uh,” Martha looks up, tries to remember, drifts from side to side in front of John. “Since I was... Hm. When was it? I think it was the year that I turned twelve that I started going. Yeah, ‘cause that’s when my parents decided that they could let me go out whenever I wanted, so long as I came home at a decent time. So, like, thirteen years?”

“Shit, baby. You’re  _ impressive _ ,” John says, still in complete and total awe. Martha shrugs, blushes and smiles bashfully. “Seriously! I  _ wish  _ I could do that!”

“With practice, you can do anything,” Martha says, smiles crookedly, slides over to John’s side.

“You’ve been practicing for  _ thirteen. Years _ . Baby. I’m not ice skating constantly for the next thirteen years. You think I have that kinda commitment for that kinda shit?” John replies, chuckles a bit, tries to ignore the weird feeling he gets in his chest when he says the word  _ commitment _ .

“We’ve been together for three years,  _ that’s  _ commitment, Johnny,” Martha replies, hand on her hip.

“Yeah, but I care about  _ you _ , not ice skating,” John replies, fond look in his eyes.

Martha blushes even more, hides her face in her hands. “You’re a  _ nerd  _ and I adore you,” she murmurs.

“I’m  _ your  _ nerd, though, baby,” John smiles wide at her, trying to get her to show her face again without him actually having to move.

“ _ Anyways _ ,” Martha says, hands away from her face now, gives John a very determined look. “You ready to give this a try?” she finishes, holds her hand out for John to take. He nods, takes her hand in his, grips it tightly. “Just hold onto me as tight as you need to, darlin’.” She waits for John to take another deep breath before carefulling starting to skate with him by her side.

“I hate this,” John announces after they’re about halfway around the rink. “I hate everything about this. This is the worst thing I have ever done.”

“You’re so  _ dramatic _ , shut  _ up _ ,” Martha replies, playfully glares over at John.

“This is awful and I don’t understand how you find fun in this,” John says, ignores Martha’s words, almost falls over.

“It’s more enjoyable when I don’t have a shitty attitude about it, for one,” Martha raises both eyebrows accusatorily. “It’s also more enjoyable when I’m not complaining wildly, love.”

“This is terrifying,” John replies matter-of-factly, clings to Martha for dear life as his legs almost slide out from under him. “Shit, fuck, I don’t like this. I give up. Please. Martha. Babygirl. Please let me give up.”

“We gotta go back to the entrance, Johnny. Then you can give up,” Martha rolls her eyes a bit, shakes her head in amusement. She laughs a little when John groans for a very long time.

“I hate literally everything about this,” John says breathlessly, fingernails digging into Martha’s arm. 

She winces and gives him a  _ look _ . “You even hate having to hold onto me?” Martha asks teasingly.

“You and I both know that that is not what I meant,” John replies shakily, sighs in relief as they get closer and closer to his freedom.

“I know, I just like teasing you. And I’m tryna get you to stop thinking about this,” Martha hums a bit, casually steps out of the rink as soon as she gets close enough to the exit. John tries to step out, too, but he steps wrong or something, because he immediately falls directly onto his ass.

“Son of a bitch!” John whines, refuses to try to get up. Martha tries really hard not to laugh, holds her hand out to help John up. “Ugh, I  _ knew  _ this was gonna end horribly!”

“Johnny, just take my hand, let's get up, you brat!” Martha exclaims, waves her hand wildly. John groans for a long time, takes it in his own and slowly lifts himself up, a vice grip on Martha’s hand. “There you go,” she says when he stands up and gets off of the ice, “you’re okay.”

“Motherfucker, that really hurt,” John whines again, stumbles over to where their shoes are with a hand absently rubbing his aching ass to keep it from hurting too much. “Ugh,” he grumbles, flops down on the bench, pulls his skates off as quickly as possible.

Martha quickly follows, sits down next to him, rips her skates off easily and pulls on her boots. She makes grabby hands at John’s skates, her own pair in one of her hands, takes John’s pair and goes up to give them back to the counter. She returns when John’s just finished lacing up his shoes, mumbling bitterly to himself. She grabs his hand, pulls him up and starts dragging him off to their apartment. “Well, that was exciting,” Martha says absently.

“Thanks for not laughing your ass off at me, baby. I really appreciate it,” John murmurs, a bit bashful. “I love you.”

“And thank you for doing this with me. I had a lot of fun. I love you, too,” Martha replies, bumps John’s hip with her own.


	10. 10. movies and hot chocolate

The next day, John and Martha decides that it's going to be a lazy day. After a long while of laying in bed, lazily making out, they decide to stumble out of their room, make some hot chocolate, cuddle up in front of the fireplace, and watch cheesy Christmas movies. If John's being honest, he's excited about it; he needs a bit of a mental break before the day after tomorrow, the thought of proposing to Martha being a little nerve wracking. For the time being, though, he's just going to watch these movies with his Marty and enjoy the shit out of the day.

John's curled up under a giant quilt Martha made years ago, searching through Netflix, trying to look for a suitable first movie for the day when Martha slowly comes out of the kitchen with two mugs in hand. "Hot chocolate coming," Martha announces. "We've got mini marshmallows and candy canes in these bad boys." John claps his hands together excitedly, throws the blanket out of the way so Martha can sit down. She sits, hands John the mug with a  _J_ written on it, keeps the mug with the _M_ on it for herself, pulls the quilt over her after she curls up and rests on John's shoulder. "You pick out a movie yet?"

"Hm. How about  _Love Actually_? It's a Christmas rom com classic, isn't it?" John asks, absently stirs his hot cocoa with his candy cane.

"I didn't know you liked rom coms, Johnny," Martha murmurs, grins up at John. He smiles bashfully and shrugs a bit. "Well, lucky for you, 'cause I love rom coms, too. And  _Love Actually_ is one of my favorites. Put it on, baby boy."

John mock salutes, clicks on the movie and presses play. He tilts his head to kiss Martha's temple before setting his mug on an end table, getting up to go start the fire. He smiles happily to himself as he does so, hums a bit to himself because he's so happy to get to spend the day with Martha. He stands back up after the fire's crackling, stretches his arms before going back to the couch next to Martha. "I'm excited about today," he whispers when he's got his mug back in his hands.

"How come?" Martha asks quietly, briefly tears her away from the movie, sips her hot cocoa.

"'Cause I get to spend the entire day with my babygirl, curled up with her, watchin' movies. It's my favorite kind of day, gettin' to cuddle with my girl," John replies, cheekily smiles, noses at Martha's hair.

Martha laughs, a hand coming up to cover the side of her face. "You're such a  _sap_ , Johnny."

"Yeah, but I'm your sap, aren't I?" John raises both eyebrows a bit. "Everything about me's yours, as long as you'll have me."

"Even your ass?" Martha asks, sticks her tongue out a bit and smiles.

"With how often you're touchin' it, it may as well be yours by now," John replies, snorts a bit.

"Good," Martha says quietly. "I wouldn't want it any other way. 'S all mine and ain't nobody allowed to touch or look at it."

John laughs at that, buries his face in Martha's hair now. "'M all yours, babygirl. Nobody else gets to have me. Yours till the end of time."

Martha's quiet for a bit, a tad blushy, lets her eyes flutter shut. "And I'm all yours, too, baby," she murmurs. "Like that E. E. Cummings poem I love so much. 'I fear no fate, for you are my fate, my sweet. I want no world, for beautiful you are my world, my true.'"

"'I like my body when it is with your body,'" John says right back, no hesitation. He doesn't memorize a lot of poems, but Martha loves E. E. Cummings so much that he would gladly remember them all just to recite to her. And he knows that it's not the same poem that Martha started off with, but he feels as if it fits the situation well. "'It is so quite new a thing. Muscles better and nerves more.'"

"'I like your body. I like what it does, I like its hows. I like to feel the spine of your body and its bones, and the trembling-firm-smoothness and which I will again and again and again kiss,'" Martha replies, perhaps a bit giddy, tilts her head to kiss all over John's face. "I like this. I like that you've memorized poems for me. It's sweet."

"Well, you know me, Marty," John whispers, "'I like kissing this and that of you.' And reciting poetry to you makes you happy, and I like seein' you happy."

"Nerd," Martha says under her breath, turns her attention back to the movie.

"Perhaps. But you love it," John replies quietly, tries to focus on the movie now, too.

~*~

About two hours later, their first movie of the day is over. Martha yawns, stretches her limbs out while John gets up to go start the fire back up. "How 'bout we do  _Hitched for the Holidays_ next? That's a good one," Martha says to John. He nods, stands up and climbs back onto the couch.

"I'd love that," John replies, lightly pushes Martha down on the couch and lays on top of her. He rests his head on her chest and she laughs, the sound rumbling through her chest, making John sigh happily. He pulls the quilt up over the both of them, wraps his arms tightly around her waist and shifts around a bit to get comfortable.

"You comfy?" Martha asks, holding back another laugh.

"Not yet," John grumbles, shifts a bit more before sighing contentedly. "There we go. Perfect."

Martha chuckles a bit, presses play on their second movie of the day. She shifts around a bit herself, sets down the remote and rests one hand in John's hair, the other on the small of his back. "You make a terrific blanket, Johnny."

"And you make a terrific bed, baby," John replies absently, eyes lit up as he watches the intro of the movie excitedly. "How many movies do you think we should do today?"

"As many as we can 'til we fall asleep," Martha answers.

"Sounds good to me."

~*~

A little over three hours later, their second movie of the day is over. They continue to do the same thing over and over throughout the day--Martha putting on a movie, John starting the fire, and then John coming over to lay back on top of Martha.

It's sometime during  _Fir Crazy_ when John falls asleep on top of Martha. It's probably a little bit her fault that he's fallen asleep, as she had been running her hand lightly up and down John's back the entire day. She looks at the clock on the DVR, eyes widening when she sees that it's well past ten in the evening. She shuts off the TV, shifts a bit to get comfortable and shuts her eyes. Martha decides that they should just sleep on the couch, her being way too tired to get up and bring them both to their bedroom. She sighs happily before murmuring, "I love you," to the still very asleep John before she drifts off to sleep herself.


	11. 11. christmas eve engagement

Sometime in the middle of the night, John had randomly woken up, saw that he and Martha were still in the living room. He had looked around briefly before picking Martha up and bringing her to their room, laying down and holding Martha close to him. He quickly fell back asleep after that.

It's around noon when John wakes up again. He wakes up to Martha, resting on her elbow next to him, tracing a finger over his face and looking at him with love in her eyes. "Hey," John says quietly.

"Hey, Martha replies, kisses his forehead before slipping out of bed briefly. She slides back in after pulling off her pajama pants, decked out entirely in John's clothes; a sweater of his, his boxers, and his socks that are far too big on her. She nudges John's shoulder so that he's laying flat on his back, sits on his hips and smiles down at him. "It's twelve in the afternoon, y'know."

"Shit," John mumbles, partially about what Martha's wearing and partially about what she says, rests his hands lightly on her hips. "Sorry for conkin' out, babygirl."

"Don't worry 'bout it," Martha murmurs, hands on John's face, admiring him. "You're cute when you're sleeping. You drooled a little bit. It was precious."

John blushes furiously, briefly tears a hand away from Martha to swipe at his mouth. She laughs at that and he stares at her wistfully, absolutely and totally in love. And it's in that moment that he realizes that he can't wait until tomorrow to propose to her. He has to do it now. "Marry me," he says suddenly.

"What?" Martha looks at him with confused features.

"Hold on. I have. I have a ring. And a speech thing. Or whatever. Hold on," John stutters out, reaches into his nightstand, thrashes around for the velvet box, sighs in relief when he finds it. "Stand up," he commands.

Martha gives him a weird look, but obeys, standing up on the middle of the bed. "Johnny, what's going on?"

John shushes her as he shifts to kneel on one knee. "Please don't say anything until I finish, okay?"

"Okay?" Martha frowns a bit.

"Okay, here goes nothing. I'm shit at speeches, so instead of writing a speech for you, I decided to memorize a couple poems and recite them to you. 'Cause I know that you love poetry so much. Here we go. To... To start, I wanna recite a poem that I always think of whenever I think of our... Our first time, which always has been and always will be a very special night to me," John takes a deep breath to steel himself. "'I like my body when it is with your body,'" he starts a bit shakily, eyes closed briefly. "'It is so quite new a thing. Muscles better and nerves more. I like your body. I like what it does, I like its hows. I like to feel the spine of your body and its bones, and the trembling-firm-smoothness and which I will again and again and again kiss. I like kissing this and that of you, I like slowly stroking the, shocking fuzz of your electric fur, and what-is-it comes over parting flesh... And eyes big love-crumbs, and possibly I like the thrill of under me you so quite new.'"

"Oh, Johnny," Martha says quietly, tears shiny in her eyes.

John ignores her, continues on with his words, significantly more confident than before. "And, uh, this is how I've always felt about you. And always  _will_ feel about you. And I know it's your favorite poem, so that's a plus. 'I carry your heart with me, I carry it in my heart. I am never without it, anywhere I go, you go, my dear; and whatever is done by only me is your doing, my darling. I fear no fate, for you are my fate, my sweet. I want no world, for beautiful you are my world, my true, and it's you are whatever a moon has always meant and whatever a sun will always sing is you. Here is the deepest secret nobody knows, here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud and the sky of the sky of a tree called life; which grows higher than soul can hope or mind can hide, and this is wonder that's keeping the stars apart. I carry your heart with me, I carry it in my heart.'"

John takes a deep breath, licks his lips briefly before continuing on. "So, uh, what I'm trying to say is that I love you. No, I am  _in_ love with you. There's a difference, I think, between loving someone and being in love with someone. If you love someone, it's something casual. Like, how I love Herc, and I love Laf. It's casual, platonic. A person can love anything, it doesn't even have to be a _person_ that they love. But to be  _in_ love with someone, you have to have loved them, in that casual way. And that love grows and grows until it manifests into something bigger and more beautiful. Something romantic, y'know? I guess I both love you and am in love with you. You're both my best friend and the love of my life. I have never been happier than I am when I'm with you. I can't think of a time in my life where I was without you. All events in my life are marked as 'before Martha' and 'during Martha.' I want there to be no 'after Martha.' I want it to be 'during Martha' for the rest of our lives. So what do you say? Do this lovesick, stumbling buffoon a favor and marry him?" He finally gets the question out, slowly opens the box in his hands to reveal that gorgeous ring he bought for her.

Martha's full on sobbing now, chest heaving and tears streaming down his face. John's briefly concerned that he said something wrong, is about to voice that worry, but she interrupts him before he can get anything out. "Yes!" she shouts, wipes tears away from her face. "Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes! Yes! Of  _course_ I'll marry you, you dummy! In what world would I  _not_ want to marry you? Oh, my God!"

John laughs, tears of his own spilling now. He shakily slides the ring onto Martha's finger, stands up and pulls her into a deep, loving kiss. He never wants to pull away, but oxygen is a thing, so he unfortunately has to. He keeps close to her, presses several quick kisses to her lips and absently tries to swipe Martha's tears away with his thumbs. "Y'know, when I showed Patsy the ring, she said almost the same exact thing. She was all like, 'she'd only say no if we were in some alternate universe.'"

"She  _knew_? When did you show her?" Martha asks, barely able to tear her eyes away from the diamonds now resting on her finger.

"When my siblings came over a few days ago. I wasn't showin' her some drawing I started. I was showin' her the ring," John whispers, kisses Martha again.

"Oh, my  _God_ , Johnny," Martha mumbles against John's lips, laughs a little. "When did you even get it?"

"Remember when you dragged me to the mall 'cause you needed some last minute presents for the Schuylers, then you ended up going a li'l overboard?" John asks and Martha hums in response. "Yeah, I got it then. But I've been wanting to do it for quite a while, jus' haven't figured out what ring to get until then. And, uh, I was gonna give it to you tomorrow, as one of your presents."

"You were gonna make my cry in front of all our friends?" Martha says, incredulous, kisses John quickly.

"Yeah, maybe. But I think I like this better. Gettin' to be the one person to see you like this," John replies, cheeky smile on his face, gives her a kiss that's all smiles.

"You're such a freakin' nerd.  _My_ nerd. My  _fiancé_. Holy shit, you're my  _fiance_. You're gonna be my  _husband_ ," Martha says in shock.

"And you're gonna be my wife," John replies, lip quivering a bit as more tears spill from his eyes. "I can't wait 'til I can call you my  _wife_ in front of everyone. But, for now, I can settle with calling you my  _fiancée_. My gorgeous bride-to-be."

"Jesus. I can't believe this. You're amazing. Perfect. My perfect husband-to-be. Agh! Calling you  _husband_ , it sends shivers down my spine," Martha laughs to herself.

"It's perfect. It sounds perfect," John replies. "Y'know what else sounds perfect?" Martha hums in response. "You're gonna be Martha  _Laurens_ soon."

"Oh, my God! I didn't even realize that! Martha  _Laurens_. It has a nice ring to it, doesn't it?" Martha bites her lip a bit.

"Definitely. Mr. and Mrs. Laurens. I love it. It's perfect.  _You're_ perfect. I love you," John says a little breathlessly.

"I love you, too, sweetheart. So, so much," Martha replies, kisses him again and again and again.


	12. 12. christmas day

The next day, John wakes up next to Martha, very naked and very giddy. He smiles wide, completely and totally in love, arm thrown haphazardly over her slowly rising and falling chest. His hand moves to trace slow, mindless patterns on her bare thigh, pushing himself up to rest on his elbow. He watches his girlfriend- no,  _fiancée_!- wake up slowly, eyes overflowing with love. "Hey," he whispers, tries to keep himself from getting too excited to see her.

"Hey," Martha replies, slowly lifts her hands to cup John's cheeks, bites her lip to keep her from grinning too wide. "Good morning, my fiancé. My dearest. My love. My pretty husband-to-be."

John blushes, bites his lip and averts his gaze, hand briefly slowing. "Good morning t'you, too, my fiancée. My babygirl. My sweet thing. My gorgeous wife-to-be."

Martha giggles, a bit giddy, leans up to press a deep kiss to John's lips. "I can't wait to show off this ring to everyone," she whispers, stares in awe at the engagement ring on her hand, against his face. "Alex  _wishes_ he coulda gotten Eliza an engagement ring like this, baby."

John tilts his head back, laughs heartily at that, presses kisses all over Martha's face. "I can't believe I'm gon' marry a regular fuckin' comedian," John says, still chuckling a bit, slips out of bed to get ready to see all their friends.

Martha wolf whistles when John leans over their dresser, sits up and holds the comforter to her chest. John rolls his eyes in amusement as he pulls on his boxers. "Ay, hottie with a body!" she hollers, slips out of bed herself to get ready. While John blushes, Martha stands next to him, bumps his hip with her own before throwing off underwear of her own. She nudges John's shoulder briefly, hand on his chest while she gives him a quick kiss. "I'm gon' go take a shower. Care to join me?"

John raises both eyebrows at that, smirks a bit and pulls Martha closer by the hips, slots his hips against hers. "You know me so well. Lead the way," he murmurs roughly, kisses Martha within an inch of her life. She grins dopily, pulls him by the arm to the bathroom.

~*~

After about half an hour of getting each other dirty again and then cleaning each other back up, John and Martha stumble out of the bathroom, lazily get dressed next to each other. After they're both ready and decked out in matching sweaters, they make their way to living room, hand in hand, to wait for their friends to show up.

"Ah! I'm so excited to show this off!" Martha exclaims suddenly, stares down at the ring excitedly.

John curls around her, kisses her shoulder and hums against the small bit of bare skin. "I can't wait to tell the guys that you're officially all  _mine_ ," he replies, grabs her thigh and squeezes it before pressing another few kisses to her shoulder, murmuring, " _mine,_ " between each peck.

Martha hums mindlessly, leans into the touch as she fidgets with the ring. "Mm, I love it when you get all possessive."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Prove it," John says, kisses up and down her neck. Just as she's about to say something else, the doorbell rings, making the both of them perk up. "Dammit," he pouts, gets up to go open the door. Martha laughs while she watches John's overenthusiastic friends practically run him over with a giant group hug, all of them with gift bags in their hands.

Martha, while still chuckling, gets up and goes to the door, smiles at all of John's friends. "Hey, y'all."

"There she is!" Hercules exclaims, leans away from John to pull Martha into a tight hug, which she reciprocates easily. "How the hell have you been, kiddo?" he asks, pats Martha's head fondly.

"I've been great! Y'know how it is. But, something very exciting did happen recently, though, that I wanna tell y'all all about when the girls get here," Martha replies while Alex and Gil come over to join in on the hug with Martha. John joins in, too, of course, hugs her from behind.

"Tell us all what?" Eliza asks, who Martha did not see appear. Martha shoves the guys away in favor of hugging Eliza, Angelica, and Peggy instead. "Oh, Marty, it's so good to see you!" she says easily.

Angelica smiles wide, presses a fond kiss to Martha's hairline. "It's good to see you looking well," she murmurs.

"My homeslice, breadslice!" Peggy exclaims, to which Martha laughs. "God, we don't see each other often enough anymore! It's such a shame."

"It really is," Martha replies, kisses Peggy's cheek. "Well, come in! We've got great news!" she exclaims, pulls away from the girls, gestures all of them inside. They all shuffle in and John lingers with Martha, kisses all over the side of her face before closing the door, grabbing her hand, leading them to all their friends. They collapse on the couch, Martha half in his lap, watching fondly as their friends all shove their gifts under the tree. She smiles and bites her lip up at John when they see Alex and Eliza whispering to each other, Eliza giggling before they both sit down, curled up next to each other.

"So, mon amis. What's the big news?" Gil asks, arm across the back of the couch.

Martha looks up at John slowly. "We ready for this?" she asks quietly.

"I'm ready if you're ready. You  _do_ have the proof on you right now," John replies, barely above a whisper.

Martha nods, takes a deep breath before breaking out into an impossibly wide grin. "We're getting married!" she exclaims, shoves her left hand out for all their friends to see the sparkling diamonds.

They all gasp and lean forward to look at the ring while John kisses Martha's cheek instinctively. Martha blushes a bit under all the attention, bashful look on her face as all of their friends check the engagement ring out.

"Holy shit," Alex says, the first one to say anything. "Thanks John. Now you've one-upped me at the fiancé game. I've gotta get somethin' twice as nice for Betsey to prove that I'm a greater husband than you'll be."

John laughs and Martha looks up at him, a bit panicky. "Oh, my God, Johnny, you're gonna be my fucking  _husband_. How  _wild_ is that shit?" she says, wide-eyed and loving. All their friends laugh and  _aw_ them. "Shut up, don't laugh, I'm gonna be the  _wife_ of my  _favorite_ person."

"That's exactly how I felt," Eliza says, reaches over to squeeze Martha's shoulder. "It's a lot to take in, right? But, hey, at least you won't have to worry about getting used to waking up next to him every morning."

"I'm gonna need you for some major fiancée help. Teach me your ways of the wife," Martha replies, smiles shyly while Eliza laughs.

"You're gonna fall in love with the feeling, I promise," Eliza says.

"I call dibs on being flower girl!" Hercules exclaims, wide grin on his face.

"We wouldn't dream of having anyone else," John replies, chuckles a bit.

"If he's calling dibs on flower girl, then I call dibs on being the ring bearer!" Gil raises his hand as he exclaims and Martha giggles behind her hand.

"Of course," John says, smiles wide.

"And of course I'm electing the Schuylers as my bridesmaids," Martha says, gestures towards the girls, who all nod enthusiastically.

"Which leaves Alex," John says. "Would you do me the great honor of being my best man?"

"In what world would I ever say no, Laurens? Of  _course_ I'll be your best man," Alex replies, smiles cheekily.

Martha smiles, clasps her hands together. "Well, now that that's all settled! How 'bout we get these presents unwrapped, eh?"

All of their friends whoop and excitedly grin at each other. John gives Martha a  _look_ that she can easily read- ' _this is our perfect little family,_ ' it says.

~*~

Ten minutes, lots of fond  _thank you_ s, and lots of torn up wrapping paper later, all that's left is one final gift, from John to Martha.

"Johnny?" Martha asks quietly, cautiously. "I thought we only agreed one present each?"

John hums, pretends not to know what she's talking about and shrugs a bit while all of their friends watch excitedly. "Just open it, sweet thing."

Martha drags her eyes slowly away from John to the present in her hands. She makes eye contact with Alex, asks him with her eyes what the hell is in the packaging, who just shrugs confusedly. She carefully unwraps the packaging to reveal a paperback book. Eyes wide, Martha runs her hands down the cover. " _Erotic Poems_ by E. E. Cummings. How did you even know I wanted this, baby?"

"You mentioned it, like, a few months ago or something?" John shrugs a bit, nonchalant.

Martha laughs, whacks his shoulder and buries her face in his chest. "Oh, my God, you freakin' dork!"

"I'd like to make a toast!" Hercules says suddenly, stands up and smiles wide down at John and Martha. "To John and Martha, the funniest couple I know. Y'all are gorgeous together and I'm so glad that I inadvertently got y'all to meet each other. To you two!"

"Here here!" Eliza says, raises an imaginary glass. The rest of the Schuylers and the guys follow right behind.

"And to you guys!" Martha says, bumps John's shoulder lightly, who smiles wide. "For being the best friends we ever could've asked for."

"Here here," John says, raises an imaginary glass of his own.

"Ant to all of us," Alex says. "For being a one of a kind bunch of friends. Really, we're more like a  _family_ , honestly. We raise each other up and make each other better. You guys are the greatest!"

Martha whoops excitedly, raises both fists in the air, John looking at her fondly. "Let's get some movies playin'! Watch some movies all day like the family that we are!" she exclaims, reaches for the remote. While she turns on the TV, flips to a channel that's supposed to play Christmas movies all day, John wraps his arms tightly around her waist, nuzzles her neck lovingly.

A little while later, everyone's satisfied and satiated, cuddled up together, John squeezes Martha closer to him, pats her thighs lovingly. She hums questioningly and John whispers, "Nothing. I jus' love you, Marty."

"I love you, too, Johnny. From now 'til forever. You've got me for life," Martha replies quietly, lovingly and John smiles oh so wide, buries his face in her neck and just breathes in her scent, more content than he's been for a long while.


End file.
